Page 30 of The Cask

He ran his hand over his stubble covered jawline. “She and I weren’t on speaking terms at the time.”

“Ah, I see.” I nodded, tucking that information in the back of my mind. “So, you didn’t give her credit out of spite?”

“No. It wasn’t spite. It was more…”

“Revenge?” I guessed.

“No.”

“She is an art curator. And in an article about you that highlighted your art collection that she picked out, you didn’t mention her name,” I stated carefully, holding his gaze. “If it was spite, you did it to hurt her. If it was revenge, you did it to get her back.”

His full lips pressed into a firm line as he reached for his wine glass. “I never thought about it like that.” He was quiet for a few seconds. “I guess it was out of revenge.”

“What did she do?”

He didn’t say anything, and I got a little nervous. I studied the look in his eyes as he stared at the fireplace. I started to feel a little bad for him.

Maybe I’m pushing him too hard,I thought, watching him carefully. I still need to keep him interested. I need to keep him on the hook until after the festival.

“I’m sorry,” I apologized softly.

He shifted his gaze to me but didn’t immediately speak.

“I’m naturally curious and I ask a lot of questions.” I showcased my most contrite expression. “I didn’t mean to be all in your business and make you uncomfortable.”

“Nah, it’s not that.” A small smile played on his lips. “I just haven’t thought about any of that in a long time. You’re right though. Not mentioning her in the article was my version of revenge. She slept with a friend of mine because she thought I was cheating on her with my GM. That’s why we broke up.”

Your GM? Your GM Kim Lowe?I looked at him in disbelief.That can’t be the truth. It can’t be.

“I wasn’t,” he assured me with wide eyes.

Thank God!

I tried not to show the relief I felt. “Why did she think you were?”

He lifted his shoulders. “Who knows? Working long hours, the late nights, the life. I don’t know. But at the end of the day, she didn’t trust me.”

I reached across the table and put my hand on his. “I’m sorry she did that.”

He flipped his hand over to grasp mine. “That was two and a half years ago. That’s old news.” His thumb ran across my knuckles causing heat to surge through me. “And, by the way, you don’t make me uncomfortable. Just the opposite actually.”

“I don’t?” My voice was a little breathier than expected.

His eyes dipped to my lips. “No, you don’t.” He shifted in his seat. “What can I say? There’s something about you.”

I bit down on my bottom lip to keep from smiling.

He let go of my hand when a server dropped off salads, breadsticks, and water. My skin tingled where he’d just touched me, so I clasped my hands in my lap.

“There’s something about you, too. You’re intriguing,” I told him after the waiter walked away. “Every time I talk to you, I want to know more.”

“I feel the same way. And since you somehow got me to tell you about my last relationship,”—he chuckled under his breath— “it’s your turn. Why are you single?”

“I haven’t been looking,” I answered.

“How long have you been single?”

“For two years.”

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